


Fossil Water

by quercus



Series: The Bhadra Trilogy [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-26
Updated: 2002-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quercus/pseuds/quercus





	Fossil Water

Daniel woke to find himself slumped against Jack's bony shoulder, his left hand on Jack's right thigh. He blinked, and sighed, then noticed Sam and Teal'c asleep in the seat across from them. From the slight rocking motion, he realized they were on a train, and from the pale pink light, he knew it was near dawn.

Turning his head to the right, he looked out a large window onto the barren countryside through which they sped. The land was glowing a deep red, the soil stained with iron, and there were no towns or trees as they rushed past the empty, pock-marked plain.

He wondered where they were. He wondered how they got there.

He looked again at Sam and Teal'c. She was cuddled against him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders protectively. She was clearly sound asleep, but although Teal'c's eyes were closed, Daniel was sure he was in kel-no-reem.

Jack sighed, and Daniel returned his attention to him. He could feel Jack's breath on his cheek, and smell him: aftershave and sweat. Familiar odors after all these years. Jack was snoring slightly; Daniel assumed that's what had woken him.

He decided to get up and explore a bit, see if he could remember where they were before the others woke. He gently slid out from Jack's embrace and stood, putting his hands on his hips and stretching backwards, listening to the crunching noises his joints made. Then he realized he could still see himself, sitting practically in Jack's lap.

He started in shock, and moved out into the aisle, staring back. At himself. Jack snuffled and snorted, then resettled, resting his cheek against his. Against Daniel's. The body he'd left behind.

Daniel turned in a circle, remembering when he'd touched the crystal skull a few years earlier and had been rendered invisible. Had he touched something else? More likely this was just a very weird dream. Or maybe somebody was trying to teach him something again, the way Shifu had. His life had been so strange; what was one more strangeness?

They were on a train. The four of them had claimed seats near the back, near the connecting doors to another car. He could see through the windows into the next car, also dimly lit. In their own car, a few more people sat or curled up on the seats, asleep. He was the only one awake.

There were signs posted near the doors at either end. He studied the one behind him, but couldn't make sense of it. The letters were vaguely Devanagari, but not entirely. They fell into barred clusters, into what he knew must be individual words, and the words fell into larger clusters, into sentences and paragraphs. But it would take time for him to figure them out, time he really didn't have at the moment.

So either it was a dream or they were somewhere off-earth. Traveling across a red plain in the early morning. Going where, and why?

He walked back to his friends. To his body, lying so trustingly in Jack's arms. His face looked younger, he thought, than the face he normally saw in the mirror. Relaxed in sleep. Jack's face had also been softened by sleep, the lines relieved or even removed.

Daniel was struck, too, by how tenderly Jack held him, and how easily he permitted Jack to hold him. If this was a dream, he decided, it was a dream with a message, a message he wanted to hear.

The train began to slow, jerkily, and suddenly he found himself back in his body, a little sweaty, his eyes full of sleep and his mouth tasting nasty. He leaned back, putting his hands on Jack's shoulders. Jack opened his eyes and smiled at him. "Good morning," he said, and Jack nodded.

"Daniel-ba." He looked up from Jack to see a short man leaning over them. "Good morning, friends. We will be in Tabaridiv soon. You will be ready?"

Jack said, "We will, Evu." Daniel nodded.

"Good," Evu said. "We will break our fast together there, after the ritual." He settled back into the seat across the aisle from them.

"You are ready, aren't you, Daniel?" Jack asked sotto voce.

"Of course I am." After a pause, Daniel said, "I had the most extraordinary dream last night."

"Yeah?" Jack was rooting around in his pack, which his feet had been crossed over. "Naked babes?"

"Hardly."

"Good morning," Sam said. "I had a weird dream, too."

"I found it difficult to achieve the proper state of kel-no-reem," Teal'c added, opening a water bottle and handing it to Sam, who drank gratefully, then splashed water on her face.

"God, I need a shower," she muttered. "What was your dream about, Daniel?"

"I dreamt I left my body and walked up the aisle here."

"Oh, now, that's a dream. Forget the naked babes, yeah."

"Ass," Daniel said affectionately, taking the water bottle Sam handed to him and drinking deeply. "I suppose your dream was much better. Full of naked babes."

"Hmph."

"Yes, what was your dream about, sir?"

"Don't dream."

"That's ridiculous, Jack. Everyone dreams."

"Well, maybe everyone but me."

"What did you dream, Sam?"

To Daniel's surprise, she blushed. Jack hooted. "Naked guys, Major?"

"Sir! Really. I think you're projecting."

"Carter, Carter, Carter. Your father needs to explain the difference between boys and girls to you. Of _course_ I'm projecting."

"Jack! Jesus, you're in a mood this morning."

He looked abashed. "Sorry, Major. That was over the line. I apologize."

"Quite all right, sir. In fact, I do know the difference between boys and girls, and one of the differences is that boys are more gross than girls."

Jack looked up from where he was still pulling things out of his pack, a surprised smile on his face. "Carter, you've been hanging around me too long. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, sir."

Daniel rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile on his face. Well, whatever the cause of their dreams, it had put them all in a good mood this morning.

Already he could feel his dream slipping away from him. He could remember it had held significance for him, and he remembered the feeling of affection toward Jack, but what it had meant was gone now, if he'd ever known.

The train jiggled to a halt. Jack sat up with a handful of granola bars and passed them around. "Who knows when this feast will take place. Grab a bite now, just in case."

As it so often was, Jack's advice was good, Daniel thought hours later as he sat on a cold composite floor waiting for the apparently endless ritual to end. They'd spent the last two weeks going from city to city engaging in various rituals of acceptance. In fact, SG-9 should probably be here, but SG-1, as the first-contact team, had specifically been invited. As big a pain as it was, Daniel was pleased and honored to have been asked.

He re-crossed his legs, wondering how Jack was doing. They sat side by side, knees touching now, and he could feel Jack quietly vibrating. With boredom, probably. Even Daniel was a little bored, and he knew he had a much higher threshold for boredom than most people did.

The planet, which Sam called P5X-298 but the inhabitants called Bhadra, or so Daniel spelt it, was cold and very dry, water available only from deep aquifers or the glaciers at the poles. Oxygen level was quite low compared to earth, except in the cities, where significant horticultural efforts had boosted it to something Daniel could breathe without too much difficulty. The trains that bulleted across the barren and unbroken expanse between the cities were pressurized; Daniel wondered if their higher oxygen levels had caused his dream this morning. At any rate, instead of having problems with his allergies, he now had problems with his sinuses, and Jack was snoring like a grizzly.

In spite of all that, he was happy to be here, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a low table surrounded by strangers; they all seemed short to him -- although he had to admit that SG-1 was an unusually tall group of people -- and they all seemed to have darkly weathered skin. From a lack of ozone in the upper atmosphere, Sam had told him, so all four teammates kept smearing on sunblock, even inside the cities.

He looked up in time to realize that the final stage of the ritual had arrived. They were accustomed to it now, and so he automatically held out his hands for Jack and Teal'c to take; Jack took Evu's, sitting next to him, and Teal'c took Sam's, until the entire table was linked. The first time this had happened, he'd been more than surprised, but now he liked it. At times, he liked it a lot. At other times, it frightened him.

He took a deep breath, grateful the granola bar had had a couple hours to digest, and closed his eyes. There was a gentle rushing noise, but internal, and he thought he might be hearing the pulse of everyone in the room, their blood shooting through their arteries and then drawing slowly back up through their veins, and a slight almost electrical charge began to tingle in his fingers, then wrists, then up his arms, and then his entire body. He felt the hair on his arms stand up, then on the nape of his neck, and finally on his head. He wondered whether it would have stood straight up had he still had the long hair he'd grown as an academic.

He braced for what came next, relaxing his jaw -- after he'd bitten his tongue a couple times, he'd learned that trick -- and then

he realized Sam was menstruating and suffering from mild cramps

Teal'c required kel-no-reem

Teal'c's symbiote stirred restlessly, angrily

Jack ached with regrets and old sorrows

Evu missed his mother and home

someone's father was dying painfully and she wanted to be with him

someone else was having an affair and was frightened his partner knew

someone else decided to leave school despite his parents' wishes

someone else wanted her breakfast

Then it was gone, they were gone, and he exhaled gratefully.

"Fuck," he heard Jack murmur, and he squeezed Jack's hand comfortingly. Always when this happened, he became aware of Jack's sorrows, and always he wished so much he could comfort his friend. He turned to gaze at him, sitting so near, his features familiar and well-loved. Jack smiled shyly at him, not really meeting his eyes, and Daniel wondered what Jack had learned about Daniel this past week.

"Not much," Jack said, and released his hand to pick up a cup of water placed before them as a signal to break their fast. "Nothing to worry about."

Daniel smiled back. Odd, how quickly he'd become accustomed to the sudden infusion of information about the people surrounding him. He was starting to wonder if people weren't supposed to know this much about their friends. Maybe contemporary society pushed people away from each other, compartmentalized them, so they couldn't know. After millennia of living in close, isolated communities, perhaps inhabitants of modern earth were starved for the kind of knowledge they'd lost.

Or maybe he was just weird. Wait, that was Jack's thought. Jack toasted him.

The intimate knowledge would slowly fade; he knew that now, although he'd been a bit frightened at first that it was permanent. But instead, it faded. Like love, and then he wondered whose thought that was, because it wasn't his, he was certain. Maybe the person having an affair.

The first ritual they'd performed had sent them right back through the gate, Jack hustling them, insisting to their hosts that there was an emergency on earth they needed to attend to. Janet had run them through every machine in the infirmary, Daniel was sure, but found nothing. The residual telepathy or whatever it was diminished quickly -- more quickly the first time, he thought -- and she could find nothing physically wrong with any of them.

"Perhaps your electrolytic balance was off," was all she could come up with. "Eat beforehand."

The idea of eating a meal just prior to the ritual was as appealing as eating a meal just prior to stepping through the gate, and the team, without discussing it, vetoed her suggestion. After forty-eight hours under observation, when no residual effects could be spotted either by Janet or by the team members themselves, they returned. Daniel apologized profusely, and their hosts were gracious. After the next ritual, he knew they knew why SG-1 had gone home, but nothing was ever mentioned out loud, and they continued their trek around Bhadra.

Daniel liked the inhabitants, he liked the cultures they came into contact with here. Not as diverse as earth, but the population was significantly smaller. They had colonized Bhadra from some other world, one they'd since lost contact with. Evu, an historian and genealogist, had told Daniel he believed their forebears had buried their stargate, to avoid depredations by the Goa'uld. There was some evidence, they both felt, in the records Evu had shown him, to indicate the Goa'uld has discovered their home world and had begun taking hosts from them.

That begged the question, of course, as to who had taken the original inhabitants from earth, because they were undeniably human. Very human. Sam had received permission to MALP home DNA samples, and early results indicated a split from earth populations less than two millennia earlier. Bhadra had been populated fewer than three hundred years. So who took the first ones?

Daniel and Evu had stared at each other upon receiving Sam's news, but neither had an explanation or even a guess. "So we're kin," Jack had said, trying to lighten the mood, and Evu had embraced him. "Oh, oh, my cousin," he'd said happily.

The breakfast was, as usual, good. Some cheese-like yogurt, thick and sour, with crisp vegetables and a flat bread that reminded Daniel of lavash. No meat -- Jack was suffering withdrawal, he swore in the evenings, when they shared MREs of beef goulash and chicken and dumplings, but Daniel liked it. He knew Jack did, too, watching him tuck into a large dish of yogurt and something like radishes and cucumbers.

Their only drink at the rituals was water, but what water. Brought from deep within the planet, it was pure and slightly fizzy. Daniel swore it got him a bit high, and Sam had sent samples home of it, too, for analysis. Nothing dangerous, she promised him. As if she knew what he was thinking, which she very well might, she smiled at him from over her cup of water, and he lifted his cup in return.

"Daniel," Evu said. "There is a famous museum here, with lovely works brought from the home world. Would you like to visit it?"

"Yes, very much. Sam, Teal'c, would you like to go, too?"

"I would indeed, Daniel Jackson."

"Yes, please."

"Hey, what about me?"

Daniel grinned into his water cup. Evu said, "Cousin Jack, will you come, too?"

"Sure. Can't let my team outta my sight. It'd be irresponsible."

Evu nodded, but he, too, was smiling. They'd traveled together for two weeks, and he seemed to appreciate Jack's sense of humor. Either that or he was humoring the lunatic. Jack's eyes flicked up at Daniel, and he wondered if they were still connected. But, he reminded himself, they were often on the same wavelength, even back on earth.

The museum itself was beautiful. Like every building they'd seen on Bhadra, it was built out of the same material the city had grown up on. An entirely planned planet, but each city different, perfectly suited to its geography. Here in, Daniel checked his notes, Tabaridiv, the soil was paler; probably less iron in it. Sam would know. Low, to blend into the surroundings, but with lots of windows and long interior walls to show off the beautiful artwork.

Statues, mostly. Daniel studied one: human-shaped and -sized, a nude male, rather Goya-like in its elongated limbs. He looked from it to Evu, who stood over a foot shorter than Daniel. Evu shrugged, a very human gesture, Daniel thought. They really were cousins.

"What's this?" Jack stage-whispered, and the other four drew near him. A box made of some translucent white material, like lucite, sat on a pedestal.

"Ah, this is by Isa, one of my favorite artists," Evu told them. "She died some time ago, but her work is just now becoming fashionable. Does that happen in your world, too? We say that death brings out the best in us."

Daniel nodded. "Sadly, yes. But are we just supposed to, um, _look_ at this? Or does it do something?"

"Oh, oh. Good. Always fun to show people this. You must look into the box, and focus your eyes in the middle of it. It isn't easy to do."

Daniel stared into the box, squinting. First he tilted his head, then he took off his glasses and leaned forward. Jack leaned his head back, and put his hands on his hips. Sam stared intently, but Teal'c looked exactly the same as he did when not staring into the box. Daniel re-focused his attention into the center of the box, remembering all those years ago when he'd drawn the cube on the whiteboard at the SGC for General West, to explain why they needed seven coordinates to open the stargate.

He slowly became aware that the box was moving. Rising slowly, up to eye level for him. He stepped back, and the box followed. Cautiously, he reached out and waved a hand under it, then over it, feeling for a spring or something that would account for its movement. When he glanced at Jack, he saw that he was staring fixedly at something at eye level, but when Daniel looked back at the box, it was on the pedestal again.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked Evu. Jack shook his head and looked at him in surprise.

"What did you see?"

"The box, um, well, moved. Up. But then it was there again."

"And you, Jack?"

For a moment, Daniel thought Jack might refuse to answer. Then he took a deep breath and said, "Ditto. Up, then not up."

"Sam?"

She blushed. "Nothing, Evu. I watched and watched, but it just sat there. I thought it might glow or something."

"Major Carter is correct," Teal'c said with great confidence. Daniel thought it might be hiding irritation. "The box did not move."

Evu smiled at them all. "You are all right; it doesn't move. But certain individuals can focus their eyes on the exact spot that produces an illusion of movement. The longer you can keep your eyes focused there, the greater the illusion of movement."

"How's that work?" Sam asked, but Evu could only shrug.

"Isa kept her secrets. Many have tried to find out, thus far, no one has been able to duplicate her creations."

"I hesitate to ask this, but has anyone taken the box apart, to look for equipment?" Sam asked.

"Oh, no!" Evu assured her. "No one would think of suggesting such a thing."

"How come only Daniel and I saw it?" Jack asked.

"I saw it, too," Evu said, and Daniel detected a note of pride in his voice. "Only certain people can. It is unknown why some can and others cannot. Perhaps some genetic reason. That's what I believe, at least. Others have suggested a vision deficit."

"But Jack has perfect vision, while I'm both near-sighted and astigmatic," Daniel objected.

Evu shrugged. "Then perhaps not. No one knows. Please, there is lots more to see here."

SG-1 spent another ninety minutes or so in Tabaridiv's museum, even gaining access to its storerooms where work brought from the home world was contained. Then they left to prepare for yet another feast with the good citizens of Tabaridiv. To shmooze, as Jack said, which was pretty accurate. Daniel was getting a little tired of all the social events; he was not, by nature, a particularly gregarious man, but Bhadra had no central government that could approve a treaty with earth, so around the world they must go, meeting with each city government.

They spent the night in Tabaridiv as well as the next morning before boarding the train again. This would be, Evu warned them, an especially long journey, lasting nearly two days. They would travel around an area of great desolation, where meteors had damaged the land so severely that it was more cost-effective to travel around it than to build tracks through it.

And they were headed north, which excited Daniel. To see the great glaciers of Bhadra. He'd been hearing stories about the glaciers ever since they'd arrived. Jack was crabby about it, of course; ever since nearly freezing to death in the Antarctic, he hadn't been wild about the cold. "Think of Minnesota," Daniel tried to comfort him, but Jack had only complained about the lack of fishing on Bhadra.

Evu sat down across from them, leaning across the aisle, looking excited. "Harishdadiv is my home, did I tell you that? My family is anxious to meet you all."

"How long since you've been home, Evu?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, oh, several years. Let me think." He closed his eyes, and Daniel studied his face. The year on Bhadra was nearly twice as long as an earth year; Evu had just turned twenty-two, which meant he was almost forty. His hair was still dark and crisp, but his face was lined. Janet was excited by the advances the Bhadrans had made combating cancers of the skin, and SG-1 hoped they'd receive permission, once their around-the-world trek was over, to take some of the medical information back. Perhaps Janet or one of her doctors could spend some time here.

"Almost two years," Evu said finally, and sighed. "It's been a busy time. Next year I will return to the university in Harishdadiv and teach again, but for the past two I've been traveling, working in the more remote regions that don't yet have a university."

"You don't have distance learning?" Sam asked.

"Oh, oh, yes, of course. But we find it's better to meet face-to-face with students, and it's good for the faculty, too. I've learned a great deal, and started two new research projects. I've been moving more into the political sciences as a result. Still, I'll be happy to move back home."

Daniel thought about teaching, how he'd enjoyed it, but that he'd preferred teaching in the field. Stuffy classrooms, bored and sleepy students, students taking classes because they had to -- no, Evu was right. Better to be out traveling, meeting students on their own ground, students who were studying because they wanted to.

"How come everything ends in 'div'?" Jack asked suddenly.

"It comes from a word that means 'village' or 'town.'"

"So Harishdadiv means the village of Harishda?" Daniel asked.

"Yes. And Harishda was the founder of the city. Not that he knew he was founding a city. At first, he thought he was just putting in a pumping station. Instead, he ended up building a small village. He died many years ago and after his death, they named the pumping station after him."

"And Tabaridiv?" Daniel asked.

"There are a couple stories about that. 'Tabari' may be someone's name, but it isn't a common one, like Harishda. I've also heard that it was local slang for a type of narcotic people used to help fight anoxia."

Jack laughed. "Like Cocaine City?"

Evu smiled and shrugged, clearly unsure what cocaine was. Daniel rolled his eyes. "Ignore him, Evu."

"Why did people use a drug for anoxia?" Sam asked.

"It was very difficult when Bhadra was first settled, because the oxygen levels were so low. Some cities were built into mountains, or deep inside canyons, with enormous greenhouses inside. Some cities are underground, and a few small towns are tented. You remember Riekahdiv, in the mountains near the equator? The cliffs themselves seep oxygen."

Daniel sat back, bumping shoulders with Jack, and looked out the window again. What an amazing world. "It must've taken so much courage for the first settlers to leave their home to come here."

"Oh, oh, yes, Daniel. By all accounts the home world was rich in oxygen and water, completely unlike Bhadra. There are stories of the earliest settlers going mad and running out into the plains, where they died of asphyxiation. A way to commit suicide."

Daniel shook his head as he watched the endless plains roll past their window, almost featureless. Going from Los Angeles to Abydos had been strange enough, but at least Abydos reminded him of the desert east of LA, and of Egypt and Tunisia and Mongolia. But this was like nothing he'd ever seen, on earth or any other planet.

"Do you worry about the Goa'uld coming through your stargate?" Jack asked him, and Daniel twisted to see Evu's face as he answered.

"Oh, oh, yes, Jack. I do. But I am a dry academic, my nose in old books. Until you came, other people said the Goa'uld were a myth perpetuated to keep us hiding here. Now, of course, they will believe. I think. And we must decide what to do. Like your iris, and the guards that you describe on your world."

Evu looked sad, Daniel thought. "Aren't you pleased to be proved right?"

"Not really, Daniel-ba. I know from what you tell me that you cannot share your knowledge of the Goa'uld with your world's people, so you feel frustrated, I see. But me -- no, no. To know the Goa'uld are real, that perhaps they will come here? Not pleased." He pursed his lips, and then said, "Yes, well, maybe a little pleased."

Daniel smiled at him. He liked Evu a great deal, and Evu liked him. "Ba" meant "brother," and he liked it when Evu slipped and called him "Daniel-ba." He felt accepted. It was especially nice because Evu was an academic. Almost as good as if Steven had accepted him, all those years ago. But those years were over, and he was here now.

"Daniel-ba," Jack said, smiling fondly at him. "How long till we get there, Evu?"

"Oh, oh, Jack, many hours. You must not be impatient. I brought food, and water from Tabaridiv, although you have not tasted water until you've tasted the water of Harishdadiv."

"Mm, yeah. Lookin' forward to that."

Daniel glanced at Evu, but fortunately the sarcastic nuances seemed to have escaped him. He dug his elbow into Jack's ribs, who "oofed" in surprise and glared at Daniel. He glared back.

Evu smiled uncertainly at them, and rose. "I must work a bit. Perhaps we will share dinner tonight."

"Yes, please do," Sam said, and Daniel nodded.

Jack put out his hand. "Thank you, Evu, for all your hard work."

He beamed. "You are welcome, Jack."

The team watched him head down the aisle to where he'd set up his computer, a thick laptop with an invisible monitor he wore special glasses to view. Daniel was quite envious of it.

He turned to Jack. "Be nice," he whispered firmly.

Jack looked innocent. "I'm always nice."

"You're being sarcastic. For god's sake, they're not stupid."

"I never said they were!"

"Sir," Sam interrupted. "The water _is_ extraordinary."

He waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm sorry. Just not used to these long trips off-world. At least Daniel gets his coffee."

"I'll buy you a prime rib dinner when we get back," Daniel promised him. "Now be quiet. I need to write some notes."

Jack flopped back in the seat, but he remained quiet, lost in thought, while Daniel dug out his journal and began to document what he'd seen and learned that day.

Two weeks on the road, and Daniel was tired. He knew the others were, too. Still, it was exhilarating to be here, staring out at the passing countryside. Such an alien world. No trees, as Jack had pointed out repeatedly, and that made a change. Technically, most of Bhadra was a desert, receiving far less than twenty-five centimeters of rain each year. Factor in that their year was longer than earth's, and it was one dry place.

But far different from the desert Daniel had grown up loving. No golden sand stretching to a distant horizon, no luxurious Nile feeding a trim border of prosperity, and certainly no ancient civilizations, alien or human.

One of the first entries in his journal for Bhadra was the question why put a stargate here? Evu was also curious, and had spent time researching it, folding it into his work as a professor of history. Archaeology as a science was neither respected nor popular here; neither, Evu confessed, was history. Bhadra was more an engineering kind of place. "At this point in our history," Evu had punned.

Since the Bhadrans had lost contact with their home world, they'd lost a great deal. Imported goods, of course, that were still remembered, even though they hadn't been tasted or experienced in generations. More importantly, news of a wider community than just one isolated planet. Daniel wondered what it would be like to grow up on a world in which everyone knew that the galaxy was populated, knew it for a fact, not just a science fiction story.

But he hadn't, and it didn't matter now, anyway. He worked for the SGC and he liked his job, even if he did regret not being able to publish. To prove to his peers that he'd been right all along. "That's your stargate," Catherine had told him. He smiled in memory. Well, at least Catherine knew. That meant something.

And Jack knew. He looked at his friend, dozing on the seat next to him. Snoring, as he did on Bhadra, probably due to the extremely dry air.

Daniel stretched and put down the journal, today's entry still absent, and closed his eyes, surrendering to the gentle rocking of the train they rode to Evu's home.

He dreamed again. This time, he knew he was dreaming. He gave himself to the dream as if to a lover and let it take him where it wanted. Into Jack's arms, of course, where he curled feeling both protective and protected. He'd stopped wondering about their relationship some time ago, and their experiences on Bhadra, at the morning ritual in the cities they'd visited, had only confirmed what he'd hoped. What he felt for Jack had grown far beyond any friendship he'd ever known. He also knew that Jack felt strongly for him.

Daniel didn't think they were experiencing a true telepathy, although he couldn't be sure. He wasn't even really sure what telepathy was. Hearing voices in your head? Seeing pictures? Feeling what others felt? The ritual they'd grown accustomed to wasn't any of that, not really. But he was hard pressed to articulate what it was.

He'd written many pages in his journal the first week trying to describe the phenomenon and to capture the sensation. But he'd given up; it was a sense-datum, he'd decided. Impossible to analyze or represent. It just was. A full-bodied, immediate, powerful knowledge, unmediated and inexplicable.

He had, of course, spoken quietly to Evu about it, but apparently it was as private as sex, despite being shared in a public ceremony. Evu had been willing to discuss the prescribed procedures. It occurred after a fast, after drinking the water from a local aquifer, and only upon physical contact. More than that, Evu's shyness inhibited any further questioning.

Daniel had also asked Sam and Teal'c. Privately. Sam had blushed and stammered and mumbled something about not being really sure what happened. Teal'c had stared at him for a long time, and then said, "Daniel Jackson. I am unfamiliar with this phenomenon. When we see Master Bra'tac, I shall ask him about it."

He hadn't asked Jack. Couldn't imagine asking Jack.

It was more than a sense-datum, his dreaming self decided. There was an intellectual component to it as well, something that transcended pure sensation. Because as a result of the repeated exposure to the phenomenon, he knew, with his heart but with his mind, too, that he loved Jack, and that Jack loved him.

Jack also loved Sam and Teal'c. He'd learned that as well, and that they were both a little in love with Jack. That's why they all followed Jack so willingly, and why Jack would never leave any of them behind.

But what Jack felt for Daniel, he now knew, exceeded anything else in Jack's life. Daniel held that knowledge close to him; he reveled in it. He could give Jack more than anyone else could. His presence in Jack's life meant more than anyone else's. Daniel knew that now, without a word spoken between them, without a gesture, without a kiss.

And Daniel was happy.

He dreamed that he turned in Jack's arms and looked up at his sleeping face. He loved that Jack so trusted Daniel that he would permit him to see this side of Jack: undefended, unburdened. He treasured these moments, these dreams that Bhadra had given him, and knew he'd carry them with him all his life.

Then his dreaming self relaxed, and sleep swept over him as rapidly as the train charged through the rushing landscape, into darkness unknown on an unknown world.

Two days later, Evu woke them before dawn; the train was slowing. Outside the window, hoarfrost glistened in the starlight, and in the distance, something heavy and white loomed. "The glaciers," Evu pointed, when he saw Daniel staring. "We come to Harishdadiv, the pumping station grown into a college town." Evu was smiling broadly despite the hour. "I am glad to come home," he said, and Daniel saw it was true.

They gathered their packs, piling on coats and gloves and pulling up their hoods. When the outside door was pulled open, the pressurized cabin shot warm moist air out that instantly condensed, and a tiny flurry of snow settled on the steps down to the platform. "Jesus Christ," Jack said, and pulled his hood closer around his face. "It's colder'n Minnesota."

"Oh, oh, yes, very cold," Evu agreed. "Warmer in the city, though." Daniel looked around him curiously; they'd entered into a large station, obviously unheated. It reminded him of the Jackson Street station in Chicago, with its tunnels leading to Marshall Field, only this tunnel led them to the city of Harishdadiv. Evu walked briskly, sometimes backwards like a tour guide while he talked. "My family has been here since the beginning. They came with Harishda to build and later maintain the pumping station. My mother still works there; she is an hydraulic engineer, now, but she's done everything. She will tell you stories."

"Mothers will do that," Jack said, smiling at Evu's excitement.

"How did a university come to be here?" Daniel asked as they turned a corner and started down yet another long corridor.

"Oh, oh, yes, the desire of Harishda to grow the station, you see. New technologies. He was very far-seeing for his time. He realized that more and more water would be needed. He was also a very persuasive man; how else could he have gotten all these people to move way up here? No mountains to burrow into, or canyon walls, like the other cities, and so cold.

"So he started bringing together different kinds of scientists, and they would decide they needed another kind of scientist, and invite him or her up. The work they do here is so innovative that now everyone wants to come."

Evu was so proud that Daniel had to hide his smile. But he was happy for his new friend, too.

"Oh, oh, yes, here we are. Now you will see Harishdadiv at dawn. For this I am so happy."

They stepped out from under the protection of the corridor and into another world. The glaciers Daniel had seen from the train were invisible from where they stood. Instead, luxurious, even voluptuous growth exploded everywhere. It took a moment for him to realize that the more gargantuan plants were in fact buildings.

"You grow buildings?" he asked, and blushed at his stupidity, but Evu beamed at him.

"Yes, yes! You see at once, Daniel-ba. The scientists, they _grow_ the buildings in Harishdadiv. Big and little, all living and breathing and giving us the oxygen we are so starved for." He took a deep breath, and Daniel did, too.

It smelt -- green. Damp. Well, as damp as he'd experienced on Bhadra. Alive and sexy. But still very cold.

"This is incredible," Sam murmured, walking forward a bit for a better view. "It must be nearly freezing here, yet everything is so green. Were these plants native to Bhadra?"

"Oh, oh, yes. But you must ask the botanists and the structural engineers and the geneticists. You will meet them after the ritual. We will stay several days here, if you do not mind. I wish to visit my family, and I thought perhaps you would enjoy your stay here."

Daniel looked at Jack, who said, "That's fine, Evu. We'd be happy to spend some time here."

"Um, yeah, thank you," Daniel added, and Teal'c half-bowed in agreement.

"Very good! First to the ritual, and then to my mother's, where you will stay."

"Oh, Evu, we can't put your mother out like that," Sam protested, but he held up his hands, smiling.

"You must. Manu is very pleased you are coming, and there is room. She and my stiof, um, I don't know your word for it, but they welcome you, the first visitors from another world in many generations."

Jack nodded, and they followed Evu, still walking backwards to describe his beloved Harishdadiv.

"Yes, you see, the plants built the city for us. We started as a pumping station, nothing more, aluminum and steel and many plastics, but Harishda was a visionary. He didn't see plants as buildings, of course, but he knew we needed to grow our own food and he followed the pattern of the other cities to increase the oxygen levels.

"My great-great grandmother kept a journal of those first days here. They lived in pressurized tents and wore special equipment to work outdoors. It was so cold and dry, you see. Your nose would dry out and the slightest bump would cause a bad nosebleed." He tapped his own nose lightly in illustration.

"Is that why you became an historian?" Daniel asked. "To trace your family's history here?"

"Yes, yes, even so. And a genealogist, to trace the family histories of Harishdadiv's citizens. Very pleasurable. My family was not pleased; I am the first social scientist in the family. But Manu and Rani-di still love me, yes." He beamed at them so broadly that even Teal'c's mouth shifted slightly upwards in response.

"Now we go to the ritual, which you know. Not much farther to the civic center, and then we will catch a jitney to my rusacomia."

Jack and Sam looked at Daniel, who shrugged; he was unfamiliar with the word. Well, they'd see soon enough, he thought, and followed Evu's brisk pace through the city.

Daniel's breath steamed out behind him, and he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He hoped the civic center wasn't too much farther. He needed to pee, and the cold air wasn't helping with that. Fortunately, Evu pointed at a Guggenheim-shaped building, enormous branches spiraling up about three stories. Tallest building he'd seen thus far in Harishdadiv.

The doors retracted gracefully, as if vines had been engineered to imbricate, revealing a large and well-lit foyer. Evu led them deeper into the hall, down a gentle slope, and toward the largest group of people they'd ever performed the ritual with. There was the usual low table, although quite long and this time a wide oval, nearly circular, and covered with platters and little covered pots and jugs of what Daniel knew must be the water they pumped up from beneath the surface. He wondered how old that water was, and whether it would taste as amazing as the water they'd sampled elsewhere on Bhadra.

However, Evu directed them to the right, away from the people and table. "You will want to visit the facilities," he whispered shyly. They'd had to get used to the Ally McBeal-type of bathrooms; both genders used the same room. Here, in an important public building like this, there were many of the Bhadra variation of a urinal, plus a maze-like series of stalls. No doors. There weren't a lot of doors on Bhadra, they'd discovered. Well, they'd done just about everything in front of each other by now, and this did afford some privacy.

When Daniel emerged from the maze, Jack was lounging against a wall, arms crossed, grinning at him. "What?" he asked as he washed his hands.

"Just, just . . . "

But Daniel knew. Just this, all of this. How open everything seemed to be, how relaxed. How different from the SGC.

He also knew how Jack felt about him, and a frisson of excitement rushed through him. In a few minutes, the ritual would start, and while most of it was similar to rituals he'd participated in or observed in many cultures and on many worlds, the anticipation of its ending thrilled him. Shortly, the knowledge of what Jack and he were to each other would wash through him yet again, the seventh time since they'd arrived on Bhadra to negotiate a treaty between this world and theirs, and each time the experience grew more profound, more meaningful.

He and Jack stared at each other, and Daniel felt an answering grin on his face. As if still connected by the ritual, he knew that Jack knew what he was feeling for him, and that Jack knew that he felt the same way, and he was so happy to share that with Jack.

Sam stuck her head in. "Coming, sir? Daniel?"

"On our way, Carter."

Evu and Teal'c were already greeting people, and Daniel began smiling and gripping strangers' forearms in the customary Bhadran salutation. "Hello, hello," he heard Jack say, and twisted his head back to see Jack towering over the Harishdadivians, who bowed and took his forearm warmly.

"Daniel-ba!" Evu called him, and he excused himself to sidle through the crowd to where Evu stood next to Sam. "This is my mother, Suryodaya. Manu, my friend Daniel Jackson."

She took his forearm and smiled up at him. "It is good to meet you, Daniel. I have heard much about you and your friends. My son is very pleased to have been given the honor of escorting you around Bhadra."

"We're pleased he was, too, Suryodaya. He's been a wonderful guide." Jack stood next to him, and Daniel said, "Suryodaya, this is my friend Jack O'Neill. Jack, this is Evu's mother."

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Jack said, and bowed slightly.

"Oh, oh, yes," she said. "And Evu has told me of you, too. Welcome, welcome. You will stay in our rusacomia, yes?"

"Thank you; that's very kind of you," Daniel answered for them, but then someone clapped her hands and they turned to file around the table.

"Everyone knows Evu," the woman called out, and the crowd laughed, and a few shouted out his name. "Evu?"

"Oh, oh, yes, Rani-di. And now everyone knows SG-1, who came here through the offan, which they call a stargate. And this is Daniel."

"Thank you," he told the crowd, blushing a little. "I'm sure Evu has told you that we are peaceful explorers from another world, come to learn about your culture, and perhaps to trade. Thank you for welcoming us to Bhadra."

The crowd lightly patted the tabletop, the equivalent, Daniel had earlier decided, of applauding, and he motioned to his teammates to be seated. Evu put him, as usual, at the head of the table, with Jack to his right and Sam to his left, and then Teal'c next to her. Suryodaya sat next to Jack and Evu next to Teal'c.

Rani-di was in charge of this ritual. Daniel watched her closely as she leaned forward to light the little candle in her hand from the large squat one burning in the center of the table. She then leaned to the right and lit her neighbor's candle, and lightly kissed him. He carefully picked up his candle, lit his neighbor's, and kissed him.

The circle of light grew as each person at the table used their candle to light the candle held by the person seated next to them, and then kissed them. The first time they'd experienced this and Daniel had watched Teal'c kiss Sam, he'd felt disoriented, as if he'd stepped through the quantum mirror again. And when he'd lit Jack's candle and kissed him, it was as though Bhadra had stopped rotating, had ceased revolving around its sun, and all the galaxy were waiting for Jack's response.

Daniel remembered that response with pleasure as he watched the lights increase around this table. Jack had blushed as red as any tomato, licked his lips, and smiled at Daniel. And when they'd held hands, and that shock had shot through them, sending them scrambling back to the gate and into Janet's infirmary, all Daniel could remember was Jack's mouth under his, Jack's blush, his smile, and the warmth of his slightly sweaty hand.

And now they'd do it again. He couldn't wait.

Things were changing among the four teammates because of the ritual; Daniel knew this. He watched as Evu carefully lit Teal'c's candle, and as Teal'c bent gravely to accept Evu's kiss. He watched even more closely as Teal'c lit Sam's candle, shielding the flames with his big hand, and then softly cupping Sam's face as he kissed her so sweetly that Daniel could nearly taste it. Sam was incandescent with pleasure when she turned to Daniel and lit his candle, and he felt the waves of heat and pleasure roll off her as she kissed him.

When he moved toward Jack, he felt again the drawing together of the universe, the collapsing of time and space into just this moment and just this place. Jack's eyes were glowing, tiny candle flames reflected in them, and then Daniel shut his eyes and opened his mouth and there was Jack, warm and alive and, yes, Daniel knew with all his heart, loving, Jack loved him, and he loved Jack, they had always loved each other, they would always love each other, and then too soon the kiss was broken, except Jack darted forward to kiss him once more, lightly, quickly, and then leaned back to turn to Suryodaya and light her candle and kiss her formally.

When at last all the candles were burning, Daniel lifted his, raising his eyes to the light. An upswelling of joy filled his heart and, although he still felt the pain of Sha'uri's death, and of the loss of his parents and the many friends gone too soon, he also felt the solid knowledge that he was loved and respected by people whom he loved and respected. Then he set the candle down and stretched out his hands to Jack and Sam.

Remember, he told himself firmly, just before their hands clasped his, but just like each time before, he was instantly lost in the sensation of sudden and inexplicable knowledge, inarticulate before it, inarticulate after it, but wise in the immediacy of it. And he knew that

Jack loved him

Sam's cramps were better

Suryodaya doted on Evu

Rani-di was Evu's stiof

someone had recently lost a child to the lung ailment klomen

Teal'c's symbiote was working hard to compensate for the cold

several people were anxious to test the sugar content of the grapes

many people were hungry to break their fast

And then it was gone, and Daniel felt a wave of loneliness hit him, and he turned to Jack, who gripped his shoulder, while Rani-di said, "Please try the water -- it is our oldest vintage."

The water was poured into the traditional pottery cups, and he sipped with pleasure. Rani-di was right; it was extraordinary. Tasteless, slightly effervescent, at room temperature yet spreading a warmth through him. "Very good," he told her, raising his cup, and she smiled at him, raising her own cup to him return.

The meal was the standard Bhadra one, with cheese and vegetables and bread. No orange juice or coffee or even tea, but Daniel comforted himself with the knowledge that he'd be able to brew some later, once they'd been settled in their quarters. Besides, the strange water worked almost as well as coffee to wake him up and sharpen his mind.

The next couple of hours were standard operating procedures for SG-1: meet and greet. Smile. Nod. Try to look intelligent when the nice aliens were incomprehensible.

At the same time, Daniel thought, things couldn't be more different. He knew things about these people that he couldn't possibly know. And they knew things about him he didn't really want known. And although that part was becoming easier to accept, it was still strange and a bit disorienting.

At last, they finished their meal, chatting while noshing on the last tidbits of cheese and bread, the last spoonful of the wonderful yogurt he was becoming addicted to, and then Evu, Suryodaya, and Rani-di rose. SG-1 followed, saying goodbye to the people who remained seated. "Thank you, thank you," Daniel called, twisting backwards to wave farewell as Jack took his elbow and led him up and out of the civic center and back into the frigid air of Harishdadiv.

"That was a lovely meal," Sam told Evu, who beamed.

"What is in that water?" Jack asked.

"Oh, oh, that would be telling," Suryodaya said, but Rani-di shook her head, smiling.

"Just water. Fossil water, it's called; water that's been living under the glaciers for ten times longer than there have been people on Bhadra."

"Here is the jitney," Evu said, and they all broke into a jog, hurrying to catch it. "Too far to walk home," he panted as he climbed aboard. The seven of them took nearly all the seats, so Teal'c and Daniel stood, hanging on to the seatbacks, and the little vehicle jerked into motion.

"What powers this?" Sam asked.

"Water," Suryodaya said in surprise. "What else?"

"You mean it has a steam engine?"

"No, no. Just water."

Jack looked up at Daniel; they knew Sam wouldn't be happy until Suryodaya had told her the secrets of a water-powered jitney, and, sure enough, within minutes, Suryodaya was sketching out on a tiny computer a diagram of the engine inside the jitney.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Evu stood again, helping his mother and Rani-di up. The buildings were lower here, only about twelve feet off the ground, Daniel estimated, with flat roofs to capture the sun. The walls were covered in what looked like bark, and he wondered if they were grown, too. Suryodaya's neighborhood appeared to find a narrow trim of flowers nodding from the edge of the roof fashionable, for every house had a different color growing, a bright contrast to the grey-brown of the bark-colored walls.

The streets, too, seemed to be grown. He stopped and stared, then knelt and felt the pavement. "What is this, Evu?"

Evu rushed back to him, kneeling beside him. "Oh, oh, the soil here was permanently frozen, except the city is so warm, it started to melt it, so the city would sink. So there is a thin floating surface that grows over it, drinking up the melting ice and preventing the buildings from sinking. Also to keep the plant matter in the soil from decaying, which would add carbon dioxide to the atmosphere."

"So the streets are grown, too?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yes, yes, just so." Evu stood and then stamped his foot; Daniel thought he detected a tiny ripple in the surface. "Very flexible, and buoyant, you see?"

Daniel nodded, and thought of all the uses this could be put to on earth. Perhaps in countries like Bangladesh, and along the banks of the Nile. "This is amazing technology," he said as they resumed their walk. "What you've done in Harishdadiv is amazing."

In fact, he thought all of Bhadra was amazing. He glanced up and saw that Jack was watching him and felt again that wonderful connection between them. He wondered if that would persist on earth, or if it only worked on Bhadra.

"Here we are," Rani-di told them, and they wandered through a grove of trees that turned out to be the entryway to their home. More like an apartment building, in fact, or a commune. "There are ten of us living here now, so we have plenty of room. Evu is supposed to be out recruiting more students for the university, except he met you."

"Oh, oh, yes," Evu said. "Was that lucky? To be in Calladiv when they came through the offan? The first ones in centuries?" He shook his head, bemused. "I will go back to Calladiv when they must leave, Rani-di, and resume the recruitment," he promised her.

"But we will miss you, maadhi."

Suryodaya was more practical, and showed the teammates their rooms. Daniel was not at all surprised when he and Jack were given one room, and Sam and Teal'c another. He felt himself blushing a little, but after the ritual, he had expected it. Jack looked at him as they unstrapped their packs and left them on the floor in a corner, and he felt almost compelled to go to Jack. Yet habit left him unable to reach out to him, and he just stood there, looking at him.

So Jack reached out and pulled Daniel into an embrace. Daniel sighed and relaxed into it. He still felt a slight tingle from Jack's touch, though not the shock he experienced during the ritual. Just a little shiver, very pleasant. Jack rubbed his hands up and down Daniel's back, and Daniel lay his cheek against Jack's shoulder. Then they stepped away, and Daniel followed Jack out of the room and toward Evu's voice.

"Suryodaya's going to show me the original pumping station," Sam told them. "Would you like to come?"

"I will accompany you, Major Carter," Teal'c said.

"Ah, I think I'll pass," Jack said. "Daniel?"

"Perhaps you'd like to see the winery," Rani-di suggested.

"Yes, ma'am," Jack said instantly, and Daniel nodded, smiling.

"You make wine? Where do you get the grapes?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"We grow our own," Rani-di told them.

"Rani-di is the master winemaker," Evu told them proudly, and she hugged him. "Wonderful wines. We will have some for dinner, oh, yes."

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "Then come with me. We must catch another jitney; it is quite a distance to the vineyards and the winery."

They waved goodbye to Sam and Teal'c; Sam looked, Daniel thought, a little sorry not to be going with them. Well, they'd be here a few days. Perhaps Rani-di could be persuaded to give another tour.

The three of them walked up the street, more like a winding, overgrown alleyway. "This city is laid out very differently than the others we've visited," Daniel said.

"Oh, oh, yes," Rani-di agreed. "Because we are flat, and so far north. There are thirteen great cities on Bhadra; only Harishdadiv didn't begin dug deep in a canyon or built into the side of a mountain. So we had the luxury of horizontality, and the founders put it to good use."

"And the grapes?" Jack asked. "Was that part of that Harishi guy's master plan, too?"

"You've been talking to Evu," she laughed. "No, Harishda wasn't thinking of vintage wines. But his daughter, Aananda, did. She planted the first vines, and pathetic things they were. But the geneticists and biologists and botanists got interested and pretty soon we had the beginning of an industry."

"And the wine making?" Daniel asked just as the jitney stopped in front of them.

Rani-di waited until they were settled inside before answering. "Aananda again. She loved wine. She insisted her father start the department of oenology here at the university. That's where I went to school, of course. And where I met Suryodaya."

Daniel bit his lip and hesitated, then said, "Rani-di, I'm sorry to be so ignorant. Could you tell me what your relationship to Suryodaya and Evu is?"

She laughed quietly. "I wondered why you called me Rani-di. It is not my name, but Evu's name for me. Although you are welcome to continue call me that. It means, oh, something like the other mother, or the loved one of the mother. My name is Praaba."

Daniel felt himself blushing, and saw Jack looked rueful as well. "I'm sorry, Praaba."

"No, no. Please. You must call me Rani-di. I like it very much."

"Thank you." Daniel wondered if he could get away with not calling her anything at all, but decided that wouldn't work, either.

They sat quietly for a while, and Daniel looked around him. The jitney was like the one they'd taken earlier: small and quiet, seating a dozen passengers with room for more to stand. The driver was a young woman who seemed to be taking her driving very seriously, slowing to a stop without a jerk and starting up again without a jump. The other people were varying ages, but everyone he met was significantly shorter than he, and all were dark skinned. Protection against the sun, he remembered Sam hypothesizing, and hoped he'd put on enough sunblock that morning.

The city they were driving through was luminescent in the sunshine. Myriad colors of green glowed around them. A few buildings were clearly artificial, but most were cunningly designed with trees and bushes wrapping around them. Many of the windows and door openings were as round as in a hobbit hole's, some were abstract, and a few were oblong. And everywhere were flowers: on the roofs, in the windows, around and over the doors, even in the streets. The jitney appeared to pass over them without injuring them; more genetic engineering, he supposed. Whatever, the colors were vibrant, contrasting with the greens of the buildings and the pale blue sky above them.

Gradually, the buildings thinned and open fields appeared. Rani-di pointed out the different grains and vegetables growing in them, or the fields lying fallow for the next year. "You've come at a good time," she told them. "Everything is just starting back after the long winter. We have such a short summer way up here, nothing like at the equator where the offan is. I bet it was hot there."

Since it had only been around twelve degrees Celsius, Daniel didn't think it qualified as hot, but he politely nodded. "There," Rani-di said at last, and gestured to their left. "The vineyards."

Daniel recognized them from his time in Italy and Greece and Turkey: endless fields of vines, impossibly green with their tiny leaves and early shoots. The tallest were only about shoulder height, he estimated, but they stretched on as far as he could see.

The jitney dropped them at the entrance to the winery, just a narrow opening in a wall of shrubs, and Rani-di led them past small outbuildings of unexplained purpose, talking about the vines. "I'm sorry you won't see them in the autumn," she said. "So beautiful when the leaves turn gold and red, and the smell of the grapes is as intoxicating as the wine we make. But I'll show you the process and you must taste what we create here."

She took them through a low door with an odd-shaped ledge over it. "Our winery's sigil. We put it on all the bottles." Daniel stopped to study it. Shaped like an upside-down vee, the wings were wedged and slightly curved.

"What does it represent?" he asked. Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head back to look as well.

"It's a bird," he guessed, and Rani-di smiled.

"Yes, a special bird. Lives only in the far north. And only in Harishdadiv does it live this far north. The arn. A little bird, but very strong, very tough. Like us, in Harishdadiv."

They went inside, where it was cooler -- too cold for Daniel -- and smelt strongly of wine: sweet and yeasty. "My god," Jack murmured, and took a deep breath.

"Yes, my god," Rani-di agreed, smiling. "Come, come." They continued on deeper into the building, where she showed them pictures of the tiny dark grapes they grew, the meneure, and of the two kinds of white grapes used. "We call the wine made with only the white grapes _sveta_, which means a kind of light seen only in the summer. Very clear. That's my favorite. But we also make a white wine with the black grapes, called _beraht._ Difficult to do, but worth the effort."

She showed them racks and racks of bottles, each dark bottle topped with a metal cap. "Waiting for magic," she said, smiling at the wine. Pulling out a bottle, she held it up to the light. "See? At the bottom. The yeast is dying. Takes over two years to completely be eaten. And then --" she made a kissing noise. "You will see. You will taste!"

She racked the bottle and moved on. "After the yeast is gone, we turn each bottle for several weeks. It's my job to taste and to test the sugar content before the wine goes into the bottles. After that, we say it's up to the wine."

They walked past acres of racks of bottles; Daniel began to shiver. "Ah, ah, you are cold. I will warm you! Come with me now." Daniel smiled despite the cold. What else could they do but follow her through this maze? Jack raised his eyebrows in silent agreement.

At last they came to a rabbit warren of offices, and other people, wrapped warmly in jackets as they worked. "We keep it cold for the wine," she explained, and took them to her own little work area. Like Sam's lab, it was crowded with mysterious equipment and books and notebooks. Unlike Sam's lab, it was lined with bottles of wine.

"Now we try some," she said. Too quickly for Daniel to see how, she twisted the cork from a bottle and the most delicious aroma boiled out. She poured the wine into three glasses.

"Come quickly; I'm drinking stars!" Daniel said, and lifted his glass to his nose. "It's champagne. Good god. You've independently invented champagne."

"Champagne? That is what you call it? A good name. This is my favorite, the sveta. Aarogya!" Rani-di said, lifting her glass to them.

Daniel took a careful sip, and closed his eyes. It really was like drinking stars. No wonder it had been named for light. The bubbles tickled his nose and his palate, and he thought he could drink an entire bottle all by himself. "It's beyond delicious, Rani-di."

Jack held out his empty glass for more. "It's so good," he said warmly. "I want to buy a case from you."

Rani-di poured them each more. "No buying. That's for cities, not for citizens. Besides, remember Harishda the visionary. We trade, or give away. The obligation incurred is our payment."

"Cast your bread upon the waters," Daniel said, feeling slightly tipsy and incoherent with pleasure. He gazed at Jack, who smiled at him from over his glass of champagne. He couldn't believe he was on another world, only a few hundred miles from their north pole, drinking champagne with Jack. "Can we take some back for Sam and Teal'c?"

"My home is never without," Rani-di assured him. "Now you must see the vines."

Jack picked up the bottle and gazed sadly at it. "Nearly gone."

Rani-di selected another one. "This time, the beraht." She swiftly uncorked it, and they carried their glasses and the bottle out with them.

To Daniel's surprise, it was warmer outside than in, although still too cold for him, even warmed by the wine. The soil was crunchy with frost, and the leaves of the vines glistened with tiny ice crystals. "The grapes need the bite of cold," Rani-di explained. She showed them where the fruit would be produced on the plants, and how they had been pruned after the crush. "We have competitions with other wineries, who can prune the best the fastest. Harishdadiv always does very well in them. We've won first prize for the last twenty years."

When they finally trudged back to the road to wait for the jitney, Daniel was a little drunk and very tired. He thought longingly of the bed in his and Jack's room. They each carried two bottles of wine, mostly the sveta since all three of them preferred it, but two bottles of the beraht for Sam and maybe Teal'c to try.

"I bet we had a better time than Sam and Teal'c did at the pumping station," he told Jack, who laughed.

"No argument there."

"Nor with me," Rani-di agreed. "Oh, for a long soak. We will stop at the stoom. We can walk home from there, and I'll feel much better afterwards."

Daniel glanced a little nervously at Jack; he felt too tired and tipsy for anything but bed, but he hated to contradict his host. Jack said, "Uh, Rani-di, sounds good, nothing like a stoom, but Daniel and I are kinda tired."

"Oh, oh, yes, I am, too, but the stoom will help."

Well, nothing for it but the stoom, Daniel decided, and sighed with relief when the jitney hove into sight. He noticed Rani-di watching him closely. "You _are_ tired," she said, and he nodded. "Then home. We'll stoom later, oh, yes." He smiled and sat back and closed his eyes.

Jack put his arm around Daniel when they stepped off the jitney for the short walk back to Rani-di and Suryodaya's rusacomia. The weight was warm and comforting in the frosty air, and his lean body a support against Daniel's exhaustion. He realized his dreams had been keeping him from sleeping as deeply as he needed. "I think I will take a nap," he said, and Jack nodded.

Sam and Teal'c were back, too, eating lunch with Evu and his mother. "You sure you don't want to eat first?" Jack asked him, and he shook his head.

"You go ahead. I'm gonna nap for a while." Jack slapped his shoulder and watched Daniel as he hesitantly found his way back to their room; turning back for a moment, he caught Jack's gaze and smiled shyly at him, then ducked into the room.

He kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his trousers, then fell onto the bed and was instantly asleep.

He dreamed he rose from his sleep and wandered through the rusacomia. He couldn't find Jack, but Sam was also asleep, curled up beneath the bulky covers. Teal'c sat on the floor next to her, in kel-no-reem, his face and body relaxed.

Back out into the hallway, Daniel saw other people, coming home from work, he realized. In the enormous kitchen, Evu was cooking while his mother stole chips of the vegetables he was sauteeing. A couple around Evu's age were kneading bread, arguing playfully over the texture of the dough and whether it should rise a third time or go into the oven now.

Daniel stepped through a door and realized he was dreaming again, as he had on the train. There was his body, asleep in an uncomfortable position; surely his left arm would be all pins-and-needles when he woke up. He wondered where Jack was, and then woke up.

"Oh, oh, yes," he grumbled, shaking out his arm, and got up to find his friends.

Evu had fixed an early dinner for them, since they'd missed lunch. "Well, we _drank_ it," Jack explained, and began to tell Sam and Teal'c about the winery. "Gotta try it," he ended, "even you, Big T. Junior can handle it, right?"

Teal'c looked doubtful but accepted a glass, staring at it. "I have seen this phenomenon in Coca-cola," he said.

"No, jeez. What'd you say, Danny? Drinking stars?"

"Actually, I was quoting Dom Perignon, the monk who invented champagne on earth. Or so they say."

"A toast," Sam interrupted them, lifting her glass. Everyone in the kitchen raised one, and looked at her expectantly. "May you live all the years of your life." They all drank, and Sam's eyes widened with surprise. "Oh my god, this is fabulous."

"Teal'c?" Jack asked him.

Teal'c sniffed the wine cautiously, stared into its bubbles, and then sipped experimentally. He smacked his lips, making Daniel laugh, and said, "You make an excellent beverage, Rani-di. Thank you."

"Thank you, Teal'c," she said, and toasted him. "To the biggest man I've ever seen." The inhabitants of Bhadra raised their glasses, crying, "Big man!" Teal'c looked surprised, but pleased, and Daniel laughed even harder.

"Are you drunk?" Jack asked him, and he shrugged, then raised his glass.

"Gaudeamus igitur  
iuvenes dum sumus.  
Post iucundum iuventutes  
Post molestam senectutem  
Nos habebit humus."

They all drank, and Evu opened another two bottles. "What's it mean, Daniel?" Sam asked him.

"So let us rejoice  
While we are young.  
After happy youth,  
After annoying old age  
The earth will have us," he translated.

"Oh, well, now that's cheerful," Jack said, but he toasted Daniel. "Here's lookin' at you, kid."

A rusacomia turned out to be a kind of commune, Daniel discovered, when three more people joined them. Most of them worked at the pumping station, which Sam explained included a lot more than just the actual pumping of water south, but two worked with Rani-di at the winery, including the winner of last year's pruning contest. Ten people currently lived there, although Evu had rooms, and there were several guestrooms plus two more empty apartments. That explained the size of the kitchen, Daniel realized; they all shared the work and communal meals.

More bottles of wine, including the beraht and a still wine from another winery, were put out, and platters of cooked and raw vegetables along with the cheesy yogurt Daniel was coming to love, and bread warm from the oven. He especially loved a green vegetable that tasted like spring onions, dipped in the yogurt and folded into a slice of the bread; crunching happily, he decided it was okay to get tipsy twice in one day, and drank another glass of wine.

"I've never seen you drink so much," Jack said to him, and Daniel could tell he was a little worried.

"I just feel safe here," he explained, knowing he was overly earnest in his inebriation. "I mean, you're here, right?"

Jack smiled at him, and lightly touched his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm here. I'll watch out for you tonight. But tomorrow, you're on the wagon."

"Yes, Jack," he said meekly as he took another sip of the champagne. "Do you know what a champagne cocktail is?"

Jack opened his mouth as if to answer, and then looked suspiciously at Daniel. Daniel smiled, and turned his attention to the meal. Really, Jack had a point. He should eat to counteract the effect of all this alcohol.

The meal was leisurely, and Daniel spent the time getting to know the other members of Suryodaya's rusacomia. Sam was deep in conversation with the pumping station workers, trying to understand some mechanism by which the aquifer was tapped. Shanshi, the woman who'd made the bread, tried to explain.

"The most productive aquifer we're tapped into right now is over three thousand feet below ground surface. We get about twelve hundred gallons per minute. The water's in a layer of red cinders and volcanic breccia." Daniel listened as carefully as he could, but he was a social scientist, and a little tipsy, and a lot sleepy. He sighed and turned his attention to Teal'c and Evu.

"I do not understand," Teal'c was saying.

Evu frowned, searching for words. "It isn't magic, oh, no," he said, gesturing with his wine glass. "It is what it is: we share. Especially here in Harishdadiv, sharing is very important. Harishda was looking for increased wealth, that is true, but his daughter Aananda, saw things differently. She said to grow we must give each other reasons to grow. So we give."

Teal'c looked puzzled. "On my world, the economy is based primarily on barter. Where I now live, it is based primarily on an exchange of symbolic currency. I am unfamiliar with gift-giving as the basis for an entire economy."

"Oh, oh, not the entire economy. Between cities, there is a kind of currency. Our water for your wheat. Many, many negotiations take place to determine equity between exchanges.

"But between citizens, we gift. Sometimes we give more than we get, but sometimes we get more than we give. It is the way here, since Aananda."

"Do you have potlatches?" Daniel asked. "Large gift-giving parties, where the object is to demonstrate wealth and prosperity?"

Evu frowned again. "No, not large. Just between citizens. Rani-di gets so many bottles of each kind of wine, which she can use as she wishes. Some we keep. Some we give to friends and family. Some we give to people who have things we wish. And some we just give." He shook his head. "I am not an economist. I will find someone from the university to explain."

"We probably won't have time," Daniel said regretfully. "But if the agreement between our worlds works out, then maybe someone could study your economy."

"Very good. I will hope for this."

Darkness was coming on when they finally rose from the table to begin ferrying empty dishes back into the kitchen. The days were even shorter in Harishdadiv, so near the pole, Daniel knew, than they'd been when they'd first come through the gate.

But he liked it. The warmth of the rusacomia's kitchen, steamy with dishwater and filled with people laughing and drinking and getting in each other's way. Jack was stealing a slice of bread, while Sam dried dishes and talked to Suryodaya and Shanshi. Teal'c was putting dishes away at Evu's direction, who was clearly delighted to have someone so tall, who could reach the back of the open shelves.

Daniel leaned against the wall and watched. The wall itself was warm; it was probably a living thing, he thought, and enjoying the heat and commotion as much as he was. He liked Harishdadiv as much as Evu did, he decided, and wished they could stay here a bit longer. He remembered Rani-di saying there were thirteen great cities on Bhadra, and this was the seventh they had visited. Six more to go. Only half-way through the negotiations.

Jack looked up from the counter where he was leaning, eavesdropping on Sam, and caught Daniel's eye. He picked up another slice of bread and brought it to him. "I'm not really hungry," Daniel said, but he took the bread anyway.

"It'll help absorb some of the booze," Jack told him.

"Voice of experience?"

"Oh, yeah, you betcha. We need water, too, and a couple aspirin. At least."

Daniel nodded. Nothing that tasted as good as Rani-di's champagne could come without a cost. One of the bitter truths of life.

Jack gathered his teammates together once the kitchen was put back together, and herded them out for a walk. "Let's give Evu some time with his moms," he said once they were away from the rusacomia. "Besides, I'm sure there's stuff Daniel and Sam want to look at."

"Have you noticed the ground?" Daniel asked Sam, just as she said, "Did you notice how the windows work?" Jack rolled his eyes, and Teal'c hid what Daniel knew was a smile, although probably few others would have guessed.

They walked for a while, and Daniel felt better, breathing in the gelid air. It burned his nose and lungs, but he felt invigorated, and more awake than he felt since getting off the train. They met people getting off the jitneys, who greeted them curiously, puzzled, no doubt, by their comparatively great height and certainly by Jack, Daniel, and Sam's pale complexions. Teal'c was a source of amazement to all; he towered over all the natives of Bhadra, it seemed, but especially up here in Harishdadiv.

Lights gleamed from the rusacomia they passed, and overhead a thick swathe of stars lent their chilly light. The little jitneys glowed, as if the material they were made of were phosphorescent, but it was dark enough and the neighborhood strange enough that Daniel was happy to return to the rusacomia and pass through its welcoming doors.

"They're back," Evu called, and Suryodaya came out, wearing what must be nightclothes.

"Good, good. I wanted to see you. Evu tells me you will stay with us for another two days. The house knows you, so you can come and go as you wish. I'll be at the pumping station all day tomorrow, quite late, so you must make yourselves at home. Shanshi will be gone, too, but Beru will be here, and some of the others. They will be happy to cook for you, or you can help yourselves."

"Thank you, Suryodaya," Daniel said, and the others murmured their thanks.

"Oh, oh, no," she said, waving her hands, smiling up at Daniel. "You are very welcome here, and not just because you brought my Evu home for a while. I am happy to know you.

"Sleep well, and dream well, and I will see you when I can."

"Good night," Sam called after Suryodaya; Daniel and Jack echoed her, and Teal'c bowed. "Well, sir," she continued to Jack. "I think I'll go to bed now, too. I'm tired, and brought a good book to read myself to sleep."

"I wish to perform kel-no-reem, Major Carter. Will I disturb you?"

"Oh, oh, no," she said, smiling at him, and they left.

"Daniel-ba, Jack, is there anything you wish?" Evu asked them.

"We're fine," Daniel said. "Aren't we, Jack."

"We are. Thank you, Evu. For everything."

"Oh, you are welcome." To Daniel's surprise, Evu hugged him quickly, and then headed off, presumably toward his own bed.

"Well, I'm pretty tired, Jack."

"Oh, oh, no," Jack said, smiling mysteriously. "You gotta come with me."

"Jack," Daniel said, hearing a whine creep into his tone.

"Daniel," Jack mocked, and tugged Daniel's coat closed. "Come on. It isn't far. You're gonna love it."

Daniel dropped his head back, sighed, and said, "Okay. Just not for long, okay?"

"Okay."

They left the rusacomia again, turning right and then right again. It was very dark now; the jitneys had disappeared, so they were left with only starlight and the creamy glow of lights filtered through tree branches to light their way. Then Jack turned into a well-worn pathway made of a different material than the street, loose, like mulch. A sweet scent rose around them and Daniel sniffed appreciatively.

"Down here," Jack instructed, and they entered what looked to Daniel like a cave. He stayed near Jack and focused on what was literally a light at the end of the tunnel.

The smell of water grew strong, and he felt moisture on his face. "Where are we going?"

"Ta da!" They stood in an oval-shaped room that was nearly filled with a pool of steaming water. "Rani-di showed me. This is the stoom." Jack began to pull off his clothes, setting them on a bench built into the wall. Daniel saw the room was ringed with benches and shelves, all open. Hesitantly, he untied his boots and toed them off, watching as Jack stripped. "I've been waiting all afternoon for this, ever since Rani-di showed me."

"How's the water?"

"Pretty warm, considering. Not like we'll belong to the Polar Bear Club after this."

Suddenly Jack was nude. Barely visible in the dim light, he looked trim and much younger than his age. Daniel knew from the shower how battered Jack's body was; he'd been through a lot, including torture and illness, in his life. But right now, no trace of the pain was visible. Daniel saw a flash as Jack grinned at him, and then suddenly he was in the water. "Whoa!" he shouted when he surfaced, and the room echoed it back.

Daniel laughed and finished undressing, then dove in as well. The water was as warm as a bath, and slightly fizzy, like champagne. "Oh, god," he moaned, floating on his back. "This feels incredible."

Jack didn't respond, but Daniel felt that frisson of connection between them again and knew he agreed. Brave in the darkness, he asked, "What is that?"

For a moment, he thought Jack would answer, "What is what?" But after a pause, Jack said, "Us, I think. Don't you?"

"Yes, of course. But why?"

"Is it new?"

Daniel thought about that for a long time. He stretched out his arms and legs, taking up as much room as possible as he floated, then twisted and dove into the water, down and down, until he touched the rough bottom of the pool. When he popped up, gasping, he realized he could see the ceiling. Like the jitneys, it glowed faintly. He wondered if there was an aurora borealis on Bhadra, and if they'd see it while they were here.

"No," he finally said.

"No, what?"

"No, it's not new. That, uh, thing we feel. Tingle."

"Tingle. Yeah. No, not new."

They said no more, but Daniel took great pleasure in soaking in the warm water near his friend, and wished he had another glass of champagne to share with Jack, while he thought about what was happening.

He wasn't sure how he felt about having this secret revealed. Even to himself. He'd managed for years without knowing this; did he want to know? What was it doing to his relationship with Jack? Had Jack known? If not, did he want to? Knowing Jack as well as he did, Daniel thought not. Not a touchy-feely kind of guy.

Yet the secret was out. Sam knew. Teal'c. Evu and his mothers, although they didn't matter in the same way his teammates did. Daniel also knew there was something between Sam and Teal'c, and something else between Sam and Jack, and something else between Teal'c and Jack . . . The nexus among the four of them was complex and deeply knit. The loss of one would mean the loss of the tensile strength of the warp of the team.

But Daniel also knew that whatever was between him and Jack was different, qualitatively and quantitatively different, than what the others shared. And that that difference was threatened by the mere knowledge of its existence.

He sighed, and sank to the bottom again, leaving his eyes open this time. The pale light grew dimmer as he sank, but no matter how deep he went, there was still a faint glow illuminating the bubbles.

Well, he comforted himself surfacing, word was out. Too late to shut the barn door; that particular horse was galloping all over the countryside of Bhadra, and would fly right through the stargate with them.

At last, shivering despite the warm water, he climbed from the pool. "Shit. What do we dry off with?"

"Oops." Jack stood next to him, shivering. "Forgot the towels." He picked up his tee shirt and started scrubbing at himself with it. Daniel grimaced but did the same.

By the time they got back to the rusacomia, he didn't care. He went straight to his room, swallowed two ibuprofen, drank an entire bottle of water, and fell into bed. He was aware that Jack followed suit, but was half asleep when he felt Jack's gentle touch pulling Daniel toward him. He went willingly, sighing, and fell asleep with his head on Jack's shoulder.

Daniel woke, parched and needing to pee; Jack was curled at his side, breathing into his shoulder. His breath was moist, and he snored.

Jack was right, he thought; this isn't new. How many nights had he woken like this, on some strange world, with Jack at his side, his presence a comfort and a source of strength to Daniel? The endless nights, the numberless days they'd worked and played and slept together -- no, this wasn't new.

What was new was Daniel's knowledge that Jack found comfort in him, too. In a perversion of Harishdadiv's gift economy, Daniel had taken Jack's comfort and friendship and love and never realized what he was giving back. But now he knew. He knew with his entire body what he meant to Jack. The sense-data of the ritual were undeniable, unanswerable, and incontrovertible. He reached out and lightly touched Jack's face, brushing the curly hair back from his sweaty forehead. Oh, oh, yes, Daniel thought, smiling into the tender night. Loving you isn't new.

Acknowledging it . . .

Jack opened his eyes, sighed, and wriggled deeper into the mattress. "Hey," he murmured. "I'm hungry."

"Me, too. And I gotta pee."

"Me, too." He sighed again, and rolled onto his back. "Nothing for it, then."

Daniel struggled out of the soft bed, and held out his hands to Jack, pulling him up. "Suryodaya won't mind if we have a bite to eat." Daniel was wearing only his socks, Air Force-issued boxers, and a tee shirt, so he pulled on his heavy coat; it was too cold in the rusacomia to wander around looking for a late-night snack. Jack shrugged into his long-sleeved shirt, and they padded out of their room through the winding hallway and into the kitchen. Daniel made them a sandwich of leftover bread spread with the yogurt cheese and filled with the onion-like greens, while Jack fetched a pitcher of the fossil water and two mugs.

Daniel raised his mug to Jack. "Here's tae us. Wha's like us? Damn few, and they're a' deid, mair's the pity!"

Jack goggled at him, then started to laugh. "That's the worst Irish accent --"

"Shh! And it's Scots."

"The worst Scottish accent I ever heard, me boyo."

"Oh, like your phony Irish accent is something to write home to Dublin about. Danny boy, my ass."

"Well, it's a damn sight better that yours."

"And did you really say 'me, boyo'? Good god, Jack. Just drink the damn water already."

"No, no. You started it. Uh . . ." Jack frowned, and then held up his cup. "The things, good Lord, that we pray for, give us the grace to work for."

Daniel sipped his water, then said approvingly, "Sir Thomas Moore. I'm very impressed."

Jack smiled at him, and took a big bite of his sandwich.

They munched in silence, and Daniel felt again the certitude of their relationship; no proof was required. They stood at the counter, side by side, Jack leaning against Daniel, and said nothing. The quiet soaked into Daniel, a bittersweet consolation for the losses in his life, yet somehow cheering him for the future.

And what would the future bring? He peeked at Jack from the corner of his eye, watching him stare straight ahead, lost in his own thoughts. The same, he decided. This was his future. Standing by Jack, supporting him, being supported by him; comforting him, and being comforted by him. Loving him, and being loved by him.

This wasn't new, nor would he let it change when they left Bhadra and returned through the gate. They'd go on, quietly. The only difference was that Daniel now possessed an apperception of their relationship, a relationship that transcended all others in his life. They were connected, intimate in all ways but one, and that would happen one day, too, Daniel had no doubt. But he resolved once again to be silent and to let the course of the discovery run.

Jack caught him looking, and, to Daniel's surprise, rested his head against Daniel's shoulder for a moment. He treasured the gesture, and knew he'd carry it in his heart, would add it to the inventory of embraces and touches from Jack he'd experienced in the years of their friendship.

Daniel sighed, and took another bite of his sandwich. In a minute, they'd hit the bathroom, and then climb back into bed. They'd sleep. Perhaps he'd dream, another vision of himself staring back at Jack and himself, or walking silently through the house or even out into the streets of Harishdadiv. Eventually he'd wake, still next to Jack, and they'd get through another day. And then another. And then still others, until the day would come when one of them wouldn't get through it, and the other would be bereft. An unbalanced star in a hitherto binary system. One chevron short of a wormhole.

Until then, Daniel thought, and lifted his cup again. Until that day, I will appreciate every moment of our lives together. Tears came to his eyes. The product, he scolded himself, of too much champagne and not enough sleep. But he knew they also revealed the depth of his feelings for Jack and for what they shared.

He set down his sandwich and cup, lightly brushing the crumbs off his fingers, and turned to face Jack, who also set down his impromptu meal. They stared at each other. The knowledge of Daniel's feelings for Jack fizzed in Daniel, like fossil water: impossibly old, impossibly pure.

"Better clean up," he finally said, and Jack nodded.

When they finally got back into the chilly bed, Jack slid in first and Daniel followed, putting his arms around Jack and drawing his knees up to fit behind Jack's. Jack put his hands over Daniel's, squeezed once, and then left them there.

"Daniel," he whispered, and for an instant Daniel felt compelled to release him and roll away, but Jack's hands tightened again. "No, listen."

Daniel swallowed nervously. He wasn't sure he was ready for whatever Jack might say. He'd thought he'd known, but now that Jack was apparently ready to talk, he realized he didn't know at all. The certitude he'd felt in the kitchen evaporated as cleanly as the water from his lips, and he was left dry and frightened. "It's okay," Jack whispered. Daniel took a deep breath and consciously forced his muscles to relax, permitting himself to rest more heavily against Jack's body.

"I think I know," he whispered, and under his hands felt Jack's chest bounce with silent laughter.

"Then it won't hurt you to hear this."

Daniel wondered at that, but nodded, Jack's curly hair tickling his nose as he did. Then he wondered at their role reversal -- what just happened? Was the linguist really afraid of words? He smiled to himself, and tightened his arms around Jack. "Go on."

"Well." A lengthy pause reassured Daniel that he hadn't stepped into some Twilight Zone with a communicative, sensitive Jack after all. "Uh."

Daniel laughed quietly. "So you know all my secrets now," he finally said, and Jack sighed.

"Well, hell. You know mine. And everybody else's, I guess. Jesus."

"Um. Any problems?"

"No. No problems. You?"

"No, no."

Another long pause, which comforted Daniel even more. Knowledge was power, yes, but it was also powerful, and powerfully changing. And yet -- _plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose_. He sighed heavily, and waited for Jack to continue. Wondered if he would continue. Wondered if he wanted Jack to continue.

And then decided he did.

Jack let go of Daniel's hands and rolled to face him. Lying there sharing a bed, alone in the night, and carrying the knowledge that they did, Daniel felt vulnerable and a little frightened, yet heartened by Jack's persistence. Jack was the bravest man he'd ever known, he thought, not for the first time, and smiled shyly. He could barely see Jack's face in the faint light, but he knew Jack was smiling back.

"Well, here we are," Daniel said, and Jack pressed his forehead against Daniel's.

"Yeah."

"Peachy," Daniel said, and Jack laughed again.

"That's my line."

"Well, you're the one who wanted to talk, and that's _my_ line."

"Daniel."

"Jack."

One more pause, and then Daniel said it out loud. Screwing up all his courage, feeling himself blush hotly in the dark, he said, "I love you."

Jack hugged him even tighter, their foreheads knocking a bit, and then pulled back, angled his head, and kissed him. At first, a kiss like their first ritual kiss weeks earlier back in Calladiv, but slowly Jack's lips softened, and his mouth opened, and Daniel sighed into Jack's mouth, tasting of yogurt and onions, and hesitantly opened his own mouth to Jack, feeling Jack's tongue lightly lick his lips. Daniel moaned, or maybe Jack did, and it didn't matter anymore.

I love you, Daniel thought, and tried to kiss Jack so he'd know how much Daniel loved him. Sweet, he thought, far too sweet for grown men who worked for the military and ate late-night snacks of onions, but sweet nonetheless, and Daniel forgave himself for his sentimentality. He didn't idealize Jack, but he did think he was a hero, a man he respected, and someone he profoundly loved.

"Daniel, Daniel," Jack whispered when they parted, and then kissed Daniel's face, awkward and shy once again. "What the hell are we gonna do?"

Daniel answered him with another kiss. He was frightened again, but Jack was strength to him, was home for him, and with Jack's help, he'd figure it out. They'd figure it out. This time, Jack's response was unmistakable, and he rolled on top of Daniel, pressing his hips into Daniel's pelvis.

Jack slid down a little, and Daniel parted his legs, so Jack could rest comfortably between them, holding himself up on his elbows and looking down at Daniel in the dim light. Not much to say, Daniel thought. Another sense-datum: unanalyzable, immediate, and utterly private. When words fail a linguist, he thought, then gestures must do.

Daniel reached for the cup of fossil water next to the bed and held it between them. Staring into Jack's eyes, he took a sip, then gently pulled Jack's head down and deliberately kissed the water into Jack's mouth. They swallowed, still kissing, and Jack thrust hard against Daniel's erection. He let go of the cup and the water spilled onto them. Jack pushed the cup away and put his hands on Daniel's chest, on the now-soaking tee shirt. "Yes," he said between kisses, and Daniel said, "Yes."

But Daniel was too sleepy for much more, despite his arousal, and Jack slid off and helped him strip off the wet shirt, holding him tenderly, stroking his face, before lying down as close to Daniel as he could get. Daniel rested his head against Jack's bony shoulder and felt Jack kiss his forehead and then slip into sleep, snoring slightly.

Another night on another world, Daniel thought sleepily. They had time. Perhaps tomorrow night. Or in another of Bhadra's thirteen great cities. It didn't matter. The intimacy they shared was so profound that it genuinely didn't matter.

His eyes closed helplessly; he was sinking into sleep as he had sunk into the stoom, and it was as warm and comforting as the stoom had been. Jack's presence permeated his consciousness, and followed him into his sleep.

And as he fell asleep, he began to dream. And in his dream, he remembered the ritual. I love you, Jack had thought during each one. I love you.


End file.
